We'll Be Fine As Long As They Don't Unionize

For almost 18 months, my wife and I have owned a house. It’s not our first home, but it is our first house. With a yard. In a neighborhood. Which means a good portion of the people running around the neighborhood are kids. Most of them seem like normal, well-rounded people. Only two have given me cause to be concerned about the future.

I recently learned about the ambition of one of the neighborhood kids – the 7-year-old girl across the street. Her name is Kate and she knocked on our door on a Wednesday evening and asked if she could walk our dog for some money. She needed to make some cash so she could save up for a violin or some shoes or a couple of other things (she hadn’t really decided on just one thing yet). Begrudgingly, I said “sure.”

I say begrudgingly because I didn't know how much would be appropriate to pay her. Or how often she would expect to receive payment for walking the dog. Or if this would impede my ability to pay the mortgage. Kids seem to make a lot more money these days for doing, well, nothing. I know parents who’ve given their kids shares of Google for losing their first baby tooth. When I lost my first baby tooth, the tooth fairy left me a pamphlet on how to avoid gingivitis.

So, to buy myself (pun intended) some time to figure out how to handle this, I told Kate to come back on Saturday to walk the dog. From her reaction, she must have thought there was a pretty decent chance I was going to say, “No, you can’t walk my dog” because she threw her hands in the air and ran back across the street cheering as if her school had permanently cancelled math class (you know how girls are with math). After she left, I decided I would have her walk Moose, the dog, up and down our street one time and for this I would pay her a hearty $5.

Moose doesn’t exactly mirror his namesake. He weighs somewhere between 8-9 lbs. and is whiter than the line at a Rush Limbaugh book signing. Given his size, Kate probably wouldn’t lose control of him, but he’d make her work at it, and being only 7 years old, there’s always the chance she’d ditch him for a bunny or a hamster (our neighborhood is overrun with stray hamsters). So, I wanted to keep the task short and simple.

She was at our doorstep by 9 a.m. on Saturday, eager and up to the task. I told her how far to take him and what she would earn upon their return. Her face lit up as she immediately imagined all the violins, violin cases, bows and lessons she could buy for $5. Unfortunately it had been raining all morning, so I asked her to come back later and walk Moose after the ground had dried; at least a few hours. Having taken everything she’s learned in school about telling time, Kate returned 20 minutes later. There was no delaying it.

Moose was eager too, either for a walk or for the meat he thought Kate had in her pockets, because he sprinted out the front door and leapt at her, scratching her leg in the process. Her enthusiasm went a little south after that. Moose’s scratch drew blood, she screamed, and my wife had to walk her back home. Surprisingly, while her enthusiasm was diminished, it wasn’t completely extinguished. Brigitte and I thought for sure the dog-walking experiment was over before it started, but through her sobs, Kate asked if she could walk Moose “a little later." Brigitte assured her that she didn’t have to walk him at all, but that violin wasn’t going to buy itself, and her mom said that Kate was also hoping to get over her fear of dogs (of course).

So after she went inside to get cleaned up, our whole family, plus Kate, took Moose for a walk. Brigitte held the leash and Kate held my four-year-old son’s hand, at his insistence (he’s got a thing for older women). Afterwards, I paid Kate $7. Part of it was to go toward a violin, part of it toward more band aids, and part of it was gratitude for not filing workman’s comp.

In case that sounds cheap, let me point out that I’d be happy to continue paying her, but she hasn’t come back. That’s ok, though. Either way, I have confidence in our future workforce.

Rapture, Take Me Away

Since I will undoubtedly be one of those chosen to go up when the Rapture strikes tomorrow, I just want to wish you all good luck and let you know what kind of torment you can expect during your remaining time on Earth:

The only e-mails you’ll receive will be marked ‘urgent’ even though they couldn’t be less so.

Toddlers will sleep for no more than 45 minutes during any given 24 hour period.

The next long-running political saga that refuses to die will be Donald Trump trying to prove that his hair was born in the United States.

It’s learned that Oprah quit doing her show because she received advance notice that she would be one of the chosen ones. Those left behind, however, continue to get their fill as re-runs of her show air on every channel 24/7.

The only options that remain for pets are cats and skunks.

Airplanes will no longer have window or aisle seats. Middle seats for everyone!

Everyone also gets the same two next-door neighbors: Glenn Beck to the right, Keith Olbermann to the left. Moving doesn’t change this.

Baseball is the only sport still played and the Chicago Cubs win the World Series every year for the rest of eternity. Not a single Cubs fan gets to see them win, however, as none of them will be left behind.

The rest of the world’s view of the United States fails to improve as we elect Kid Rock as our President-for-Life.

Skunks soon top the charts as the world’s most popular pet.

Those choosing to text are forced to do so using phones that have 3-4 letters of the alphabet on each button. Then you can see what I have to deal with every time one of you f*!#ers sends me a text message.

Nearly all of the Facebook posts made by your friends who were among the chosen ones will say, “This is great, sorry you can’t be here!” The only time they take a break from this is when they post pictures of their kids.

Hard liquor will cease to exist. Anyone who orders beer will be served wine. Anyone who orders wine will be served sweat from a cow, though this is not likely to bother many of these people as few will be able to tell the difference. Soda will still exist, but no matter which brand you choose, they will all taste like Diet Sprite. And coffee will cost $150 a cup.